The Young Magician (The Legacy Trilogy) (83 page)

Samuel returned his attention to his escape and sent a mage-light down into the dark waters. Its light did not penetrate far, but he could see it going down some distance into the black depths before he felt the further resistance of his spell meeting more stone. Somewhere down there, there would have to be some way for the water to move on. This was part of a natural underground system in the area and so would eventually meet other such tunnels. He could just not be sure which of those would have air and which would be filled completely with water. The creature, after all, had dragged its bodies down here and must have put them somewhere. It seemed to have been storing its food for later. Somewhere, through this pool, must be another cavern that the creature had used as its larder.

There was another tremor in the fabric of the pattern and the tunnel was shaken once more, more violently, causing Samuel to brace himself between the smooth walls. The earth groaned all around and a loud crash of falling earth sounded down the tunnel. Samuel froze, expecting the roof to fall upon him at any instant but, after a nervous moment, no such end to him came. Ripples came lapping against his thighs, but all else was quiet once again.

If he was a common magician, the others above would perhaps be able to sense him and know of his well-being. Unfortunately, unless he was channelling some powerful magic, he was invisible to them all. What was previously a boon to him was now a curse. They could not know whether he was alive or dead, or even where he was. Their only choice would be to slowly dig their way down and hope they could reach him before they buried him alive.

The walls trembled once again and a straining groan crept through all the rocks around, chased by a series of cracking and clacking sounds. That was enough for Samuel. Taking his lights with him, he stepped into the freezing waters and, taking as great a breath as he could, he dived down and kicked towards the freezing depths. His mage-lights threw a ghoulish blue hue onto the pale, stone walls around him. Tiny colourless things wriggled and danced before his eyes.

Samuel spied a dark opening just below him and began to swim through it, kicking into a narrow shaft that went straight back up to mirror the first. His lungs had begun to burn, craving air. He fought upwards with all his resolve, desperate for some sign of salvation. His mage-lights reflected a silver wall above him and he kicked towards it with all his resolve. Expecting some kind of resistance, he was surprised when the barrier vanished on contact and he found himself breaking through onto the surface. His lungs pulled in a great gulp of air and he immediately felt sweet relief. A second breath followed quickly and, after a time, still kicking all the while to keep his head above surface, the craving in his chest slowly yielded. It was only then, as he began to take note of his surroundings, that Samuel noticed the rancid odour that saturated the air, like festering meat.

The edge was smooth and without purchase, so Samuel had to kick with considerable effort to get himself up onto the tunnel floor. He lay like a stunned fish, shivering to the bone until the soreness had eased in his legs. The stone floor was cold and hard against his wet cheek, but he lacked the energy to even lift his head. As his breaths slowed, Samuel finally had the chance to survey the tunnel and hope there was nothing here with him. He rolled over and managed to climb woodenly to his feet. His clothes were sodden and freezing against his skin. His boots were full of water. All he could do was hug himself for warmth with his hands pushed into his armpits. Thankfully, his mage-lights were still with him, hovering not too far away and no other creatures had yet swept down to swallow him.

This tunnel was narrower, although much taller than the first and led down at a steady gradient. The walls were filled with crevices and cracks, and it was from these that hung the arms, legs and bodies of Captain Orrell’s Royal Guards. Their carcasses were stuffed firmly into the narrow openings, hanging out somewhat where they would not entirely fit. Sticky fluids trickled from many of them, oozing down the walls to form a pool on the floor. The sight sent a shiver running up his spine.

A further boom shook the walls all around and Samuel found himself hurrying along as best he could on the slippery stones. From far ahead, running water could be heard and he continued towards it, past the men who glared out at him with lifeless, bulging eyes and mouths locked open in endless, silent screams. There were other men also pushed into the cracks here. Some wore armour and others the clothes of magicians. All were mangled and still. Now, at least, Samuel knew what had happened to the unfortunate occupants of the keep.

Sebastian had said that there was only one such creature and Samuel was beginning to feel that the madman had spoken the truth. If there were more monstrosities in the cavern, they surely would have shown themselves by now. Still, Samuel eyed the many empty fissures and dark corners with dreadful anticipation as he passed them by. His heart could not help sounding a steady rhythm against his ribs.

He had been walking for some time, ever downwards. His shivering had begun to subside, yet his limbs felt weighted with lead. The rumblings had been left far behind and only the increasingly loud echo of rushing water could be heard still ahead. The tunnel then began to grow smaller once more, its sides slick and smooth, until Samuel came to the point where he could see its end. Angling down sharply, the tunnel formed into a narrow sluice. Samuel judged it to be treacherously slippery, and cautiously he began down, placing each footstep with the utmost care lest he should slip and fall to some jagged death. The stone had been worn as slick as ice where the underground stream had run its course for years unknown.

The sound of water had become a roar and Samuel could feel moisture thick in the air. He managed to slide cautiously down the tunnel on his backside, until he came to a gaping drop at its end. An underground river surged below—a thundering torrent of white water rushing by, illuminated by his hovering mage-lights. The tunnel edge was treacherous and slippery and Samuel had to keep his hands pushed out firmly against the walls to hold himself in place.

To the left of this opening, almost within arms’ reach, the river began, surging furiously from the stone and dropping down far below. There, the white foaming water swirled and bubbled and rushed away through a black opening. Samuel craned his neck out and scanned the walls for any other openings, but was disappointed to find only flat stone. He waited there in the tunnel mouth for some feeling of resolve to help him choose his fate. There was nowhere to go but down, out through that crack.

As he sat there, frozen and miserable, his worst fears began to be realised. His mage-lights, which had been growing smaller all the while, began winking out. There was no energy left with which to support them and so, one by one, they faded from existence, leaving him in complete and utter darkness. ‘Damn,’ was all he could think to say, but the word was lost amongst the roar of the water.

The shivering magician sat, propped at the tunnel’s edge, and waited for something to happen, some miracle to come and return even a little of his strength, but nothing did. Still, he sat and shivered in the darkness and nothing else occurred except for the water’s endless roaring and falling and surging and gurgling. He had hoped that, given time, he would feel stronger again, but all he felt now was the desire to lie down and die and, with each passing moment, the prospect only became all the more inviting. Lost in the darkness and the river’s roar, Samuel could barely feel his existence at all. Most of his body was now numb. Only his thoughts remained as evidence he was still living at all.

Taking one last heavy breath and forcing his rigid arms to relax, he leant forward and let himself topple into the void. Hurtling down into the total darkness, his body felt almost weightless. The air blew a cool breath into his face, like a final tender kiss. Then the water struck him with a violent slap and it thundered in his ears.

Sudden shocking cold entered him as he plunged into the freezing depths, with roaring and babbling in his ears. The weight of the waterfall fell upon him and drove him further down, the immense weight crushing him. His eyes were open, yet could see nothing. He kicked and found air and cried out with shock and pain before being dragged under once more. He could feel motion as the water carried him and then it sucked at him and for an instant there was air again and he took half a gulping breath before being sucked under and tossed and turned every which way. Rocks struck at his knees and elbows and head, and he careered into and over them at the current’s whim. He took a great mouthful of water as again he was pulverised, and he vomited at once before being forced to take another watery breath.

Then there was light and Samuel spilled out into vacant air. He caught a glimpse of a vast, underground lake in a dimly-lit cavern; then he splashed down, swallowed once more by the icy waters. He fought with the last of his strength for the surface and came up, coughing and emptying water from his stomach once more. He could barely tread water as he tried to overcome the horrible nausea that filled him. The water was in his boots and pulled him down with each kick. His breathing was frantic and he had no goal but to desperately keep his chin above the water. Something struck his boots and Samuel kicked out, feeling hard rock. He took a tenuous step and, finding more firm stone under his foot, he struggled forward. Each step raised him higher until he was only wading up to his thighs—yet the water felt like molasses around him. His body felt enormous—almost as if strings were tied around him and were pulling him down relentlessly. He drove himself towards a nearby island of stone. Step after step he forced himself on until, utterly exhausted, he struggled out of the water and collapsed on the hard stone floor. He coughed and retched out copious amounts of water as he rolled onto his side, labouring for breath. His entire body felt ruined. His muscles had been screaming for relief and now they had it, they ached in entirely new and excruciating ways. Still, he was alive. For the first time, he managed to form a conscious thought:
By the gods! I am still alive!

He lay panting and coughing for what seemed like hours, slipping in and out of consciousness, until the skittering of some tickling insect across his face, roused him back to awareness.

From this position, he could see much of the cavern that surrounded him. Water cascaded in from several gaps high in the wall, lit by multitudes of tiny glowing worms that seemed to hang from the ceiling on milky, silken threads, shining with a pale green light. The water ran to the edges of the great cavern, where it drained though unseen cavities. Ledges and rocky outcrops jutted from the high walls, like the balconies of an underground city. Samuel continued staring upwards, gawking at the enormous stone cavern like someone seeing stars for the first time ever, until darkness crept around his vision once more, and he passed out.

After some time, Samuel awoke and the first thing he realised was that he could not move. His muscles had knotted up so tightly as to paralyse him. With great strength of will he forced himself up into a sitting position. He felt weak to the core and was tempted to lie down again, but he knew that he would only become weaker by lingering here. He needed to be dry and warm and have some food in his stomach. Only then would he be safe. Only then could he rest. His belly felt knotted and it stung as if he had swallowed glass or nails. Escape was foremost on his mind, but in his current condition he had little chance of going anywhere. Sitting on the stone, he felt entombed within the earth. Hours passed as his mind struggled in and out of consciousness. Finally, his mind began to assemble itself into some semblance of sanity.
I am alive!
he remembered thinking. He wanted to shout it out in all directions, but something made him fearful of speaking aloud. He was afraid that no sound would come from his throat if he tried and perhaps he was dead after all. He slapped his cheeks and pinched his fingernails in attempt to shake the stupor from himself and, slowly, it seemed to work.

He struggled to his feet and examined his surroundings. From his ledge, he could walk around the perimeter of the cavern, where a series of outcrops rose along the wall. He was sure he would not survive another voyage in the water and so he sought other means of escaping. He began clambering up the rocky ledges, with each movement a struggle, and passed many dark openings leading away into the earth. He dreaded having to leave the stone-lit sanctuary and entering the unknown darkness, but then felt something that almost made him cry out with joy—a slight movement of air on his face.

It was just a tiny motion, but Samuel was sure that, just for a moment, the air had stirred and moved towards him. He scraped his boot amongst the stones at his feet to mark the narrow passage and continued exploring the chamber. He waited momentarily before each of the other passages, but none gave him any hint of wind or breeze. Eventually, Samuel made his way back to the marked passage. He began into that black opening and was quickly swallowed by the darkness.

He felt his way along the walls, step by step, slowly through the dark, with nothing but the hollow echoes from the cavern behind him and the scraping of his sodden boots upon the gravelly floor. He would have taken them off, but the ground was jagged in places and would lacerate his feet in moments. He continued on, ignorant of the time passing, tripping over stones and fumbling over rocks, until the sounds of water behind had long ceased and he felt entombed in his solitude, deep beneath the earth. All he could hear were his own breaths and grunts of exertion. Even his footsteps came echoing back from the dark as if to haunt him. Each one was a painful accusation, a testimony of his breaking of the silence—silence that until now had ruled this unexplored realm beneath the earth absolutely and without exception. Almost certainly, he feared some terrible retribution, but he pushed himself on without pause. His lips moved silently and incessantly in prayer, in the hope that whatever titanic gods were observing him from their lairs in the darkness would be compassionate and would let him continue, if only he did not stop.